Gathered around the table, a family; cobbled together from family, a broken family, a growing family and family-less. Everyone patiently awaiting each and every one to fill their plate and to be seated. Respectfully neglecting the inviting collection of morsels selected from the bounty laid before us. Each in turn took their seat and reverently waited.
It came to me who took seat at last, these being guest at my table. Seeing the expectant faces around I realized that a ritual blessing of the feast was required. Such transitions around my table had been punctuated by prayer in times past. The temptation was to simply repeat the ritual and move on. Putting aside my beliefs and complying with the expected norm. No one would find fault with a prayer to a god. Though suspecting none would take a prayer seriously it would risk offense for the neglect of ritual; the rhythm and cadence marking time in our lives that comes to be expected. It fell to me to provide a blessing to begin the meal and it had not occurred to me to prepare one. Humble as it may be, I offered this simple Humanist Prayer.
“Good things come through those who's lives we share, Thank You, for sharing your lives with us.”
Tonight I offer this Humanist prayer for all share life even in the most fleeting of ways.